Snapshots
by fortheloveofgodineedanewone
Summary: As an heir, his family had many portraits of him made. Burnt later, by his mother. As a rebel, he was photographed a lot by The Daily Prophet's gossip columns. The last photograph taken of Sirius Black was when he was 22, holding his number but as much he or anyone would have liked, the Black Family's rebel's life hadn't ended then. It continued on for many unseen snapshots.
1. method to madness

**a/n** : Harry Potter isn't mine. Neither is Sirius Black, which is a crying shame.

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1.  
_ method to madness_

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_Day 2_

There he was, the vile, cowardly traitor. How he did not see this was beyond him, and he felt guilt at the thought of ever suspecting Remus, Remus who forgave him first when he had crossed the line and this man he hated, the fool he hated more than Voldemort was standing and had the gall to look innocent, as if he did not know why he, Sirius was standing there, pointing a wand at him, as if he did not know whose murders he had caused, as if he did not know that Sirius had seen their bodies grow cold in that wreckage, and Harry, marked with scar. "You forgot, didn't you, Peter? That breach of loyalty has to be paid in kind?" he hissed as Peter's eyes grew watery in some kind of emotion.

He would beg for his life, would he? Well, he ought to, he would make sure the coward would understand the horror of death, of having a wand pointed at his face not as a threat for information because he cannot bargain for his life with him, no, this was going to be simple.

Peter Pettigrew's face was white when he yelled, and the Muggles in the street turned around to look at him. "Lily and James, Sirius! How _could_ you?"

..._What?_

Sirius saw hint of a victorious smirk on Peter's face before the deafening blast threw him back. The blast had created a crater on the earth, Sirius walked, oblivious to the screaming, the blood on his robes, and bodies of Muggles scattered around him like rubble. He saw a bloodied finger lying in the middle of the crater, and a tail whipping out of sight.

A chuckle escaped his lips. Little Peter, the idiot who used him and James as a shield, well, who knew that he was capable of such malovent brilliance?  
Of course, now he is implicated in the murder of his best friends, the people he loved the most. So simple. Little Peter played on his mistrust of Remus, of Remus's mistrust of him. So carefully manipulated.

To what end?

To live a life of a sewer rat, and to the murder of James, James who had protected them all, James whose glasses were askew and hands were empty because James thought it was a dishonor to mistrust his friends, because James trusted his decision .. Lily whose hair had fallen all over her face, her green eyes vacant, and here he was, standing at the wreckage of Pettigrew's handiwork..and he hadn't realized he was laughing. But yes, he was_ laughing._

_I'm sorry Prongs you had to mop up my mess, I'm really sorry, alright?_ He had shouted at him. _How do you want me to apologise?_  
Prongs isn't here. Prongs isn't here, nobody will wipe up this mess, and he is standing and laughing.

_He'll forgive you,_ Lily whispered. _He needs some time to stew in it and he ll come back, punch you for causing trouble and everything will be alright, Padfoot._

No no, Lily is lying there beside Harry's cot, she wouldn't know anything about how Prongs will react because he is lying dead in the hall.  
Somebody is hitting his face, and his laughter is dying out, and somebody is shouting," He is a madman! What is wrong with him?"

_Day 3_  
His laughter had died out to a numbness as his robes were searched, his wand taken, as photographs of him holding his number was taken.  
It was then, he remembered.  
_Harry._

"It wasn't me", he managed to croak.  
"Sure it wasn't. And I am You Know Who", jeered the hit wizard.  
"You have got to listen to me!" he said, urgently. He thought of Harry, the scar on his forehead where the curse has touched him, and he won't fail James and Lily, he would honour his promise of protecting Harry no matter what, no matter what arrangements Albus Dumbledore made for him, he, his godfather has to be there for him. "Let me speak to Albus Dumbledore! I need to speak to him!"  
"Albus Dumbledore gave evidence on your account that you have been Potter's Secret Keeper" said the hit wizard. "That was more than enough evidence for ol Barty who has been itching throw you into Azkaban. Your master You Know Who is gone and there is no way you get to weasel out of this one."  
"Without a trial?!" his protest was growing weaker as they entered the prison, the numbness began stealing over him, he welcomed it with grief and guilt weighing his senses. "Harry Potter.."  
"Harry Potter?" the hit wizard gave a grim smile as he threw Sirius into his cell, the Dementors chill had started invading his senses. "I suppose that child is much safer with you in Azkaban, is he not?"  
Sirius watched as his cell door closed, mutely.  
_I can never trust you. You used me, Sirius. You used me for your twisted amusement. Do you even understand what you had done?_ Remus's voice played in his head.  
_I didn't think-_ Sirius began.  
_That,_ Remus's voice was filled with disgust. _-is obvious._

_That child is much safer with you in Azkaban, is he not?_

He was standing beside James body, looking for a wand that could have been blasted off his hand. But no, James's wand was lying discarded on the sofa while Lily's was on kitchen counter. They didn't even have a wand in their hands, they couldn't defend themselves.  
They trusted him. They trusted his decision, they trusted him with their life.  
He had killed them.

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this was a story dedicated to my dearest friend, and it was written long back so it isn't in the least subtle but still good enough to read, i hope.


	2. lines

**a/n** : Do not own Harry Potter. Or Sirius Black. Despite my repeated prayers.

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2.  
_ Lines_

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Battle lines were drawn in his own house. He had always understood the concept, either you are here or you are there. He was in Gryffindor and that was when the first battle line emerged between him and his family, he had refused to be what they wanted him to be.

_Oh look where that got him,_and he started chuckling to himself.

Someone heard his quiet laughter, and other prisoners started laughing as well, not knowing why or what they were laughing at.

"We are barking mad, all of us!" someone called out. "I only killed my mother! They threw me to Azkaban for offing the old bat!"  
Surely, _his _mother would be muttering about how she lost her favorite son to death and while the one she pretended didn't exist sat in Azkaban.

"The Dark Lord would reward me! Would reward me beyond all others! I will be his most-"his cousin was cackling from her cell. "-I went to seek him! I am enduring the Dementors for him! And I-"  
"And I will kill that bastard Peter Pettigrew when I get out!" Rabastan's voice rang out. "The fuck's information is what has got us here in the first place, I will tear him slowly limb from limb and have him begging for my mercy-"  
"Peter Pettigrew is dead!" somebody else called out. "Sirius Black beat us to him-!"  
The laughter rang out again, a mad laughter as if it could protect them from Dementors. And Sirius was chuckling too, laughing with people he hated, laughing because he is rotting in the cell with them, laughing with people he vowed he was different from.

You see, Azkaban blurs out those lines, those lines he had drawn so clearly in his youth, the line between red and green, the line between good and evil, because he understood better than ever, the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters.  
"I meant to kill him! I meant to kill that slimy bastard, that rat!" he yelled to no one in particular. "The vermin who tried to save his own stinking skin all these years-!"  
"He double crossed the Dark Lord! The slimy coward!" Rolodophus bellow drowned out his yelling. "We went to find him! We alone were faithful! We tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom!"  
Bellatrix laugh was gleeful as they all struggled to remember their sadistic pleasure in torturing those Aurors who had dared to challenge the Dark lord, and Sirius snapped back to life, remembering, remembering the lines he had drawn as his laughter closed and he felt sick with himself. He had fought along with Alice and Frank, here he was listening to these insane bigots laugh about the fact they tortured them to insanity. He walked to the small bars of window and watched the sea spray the island as rest of the prisoners laughter died down after each one of them recited their crimes, as if that was the only way they could remember who they were.

_You know, you can't really escape being one of them,_ he had told James. _I am going to be a Black throughout my life._  
Lily had sat down beside him. _We are your family, Padfoot. You know that, don't you?  
You are stronger than them, yeah?_ James had said quietly as Lily had put him to him sleep. Was he drunk that night?  
Stronger. Different..

He clutched the bars tightly for a moment before he released it and transformed into a dog. He curled up in the corner of his cell, and slept.  
Different.  
Stronger.  
Family.  
Lupin was patting the seat beside him._ Don't look so surprised. Is it really that hard to believe that I have forgiven you?_  
_It is a lot to forgive, Remus. Are you sure you have thought it through?_ He was still standing.  
Remus was looking at him shrewdly. _You need us, Sirius._

Another voice, a small whisper, a woman's voice was close to his ear like the howling wind of the sea and he couldn't quite place her voice. _If you ever need me, you know where to find me, right?_  
As he searched through his robes with his paws, he thought, _No no, I don't._

He had forgotten her, he had forgotten a lot of them, he couldn't remember through haze or fog, and the precious little he did, he wanted to keep it close to his wasted chest because, he understood there was a line between and sanity and insanity and he was hovering dangerously on the line, but never quite fallen, because he was Sirius Black, because James is right, he is stronger than them, because living on the edge is what he did best, because he was not just a Black, but the infamous Black family rebel.

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read and review! :)


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